Klaroline Alphabet Drabble Series
by Entirely Torn
Summary: One drabble every day, for 26 days. Rated M for some, but not all of them.
1. A - Angel

**Here it is. Yes, I know Klaroline Alphabet Drabbles are done before. RadientWings -she's amazing, bytheway- has done it and since she's the only one I know, I asked her to borrow her idea.  
Fortunately for me, she said yes.  
****So why wouldn't I just take the chance to make 26 short drabbles?**

**There we go.**

**The drabbles will be short - shorter than the ones I post on Love is a weakness. Like, 200 to 800 words tops. **  
**Also, LIAW will not go on hiatus or anything! I will still post drabbles there too. **

**This will -surprisingly- last 26 days. So one drabble every day.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the vampire diaries, unfortunately.  
**

**But basically, here's A. **

* * *

**A - Angel**

* * *

_as my light turns to darkness  
my angel flies away_

* * *

Show me humanity, she begged. Show me mercy.

_I have none. _

And she did plead and she did ask, but he would not give in. He would never.

He was a lonely creature, left with nothing but an aching soul and this dying angel at his feet.

And as she laid, he watched, his stone heart crumbling at the sight of it.

If only he had shown mercy, he thought. If only he could.

But life was cruel, wasn't it?

And there in hell he watched his angel cry.

_I do not want to be like you_, she told him, clenched jaw, tear-strained face.

But soon she would be.  
And perhaps she would understand. Oh if only she would understand.

Her screams filled the air as he closed his eyes, unable to look at it any longer. He was not afraid of torture - he _enjoyed _it.

But not with her.

And maybe, he thought, maybe if he didn't look - if he acted like it didn't _happen_. Maybe, when all of this was over, she would still be an angel.

She would be dark and merciless, but an angel.

And dare he hope, that in time, he would be worthy of her being _his _angel.

* * *

**Note: All the italic, centered lines are mine. I make them up at the spot or look through my poems to search for a fitting one, but they're mine. They're not quotes nor lyric. I have no idea why you would do it, but please do not just copy them or use them for your own benefit (again I wouldn't know why, but still) without asking me first.  
Or without crediting me. =)**

**See you tomorrow. **


	2. B - Bite

**B - Bite**

* * *

_please just hold me as I  
scream your name_

* * *

She could never forget the feeling of his hard chest against her back as her lips connected with his wrist. His free hand caressing the top of her head, the rush of having his blood -his delicious, divine blood- in her mouth, down her throat.

It was intoxicating.

But the bittersweet memories of drinking from him were clouded by the fact that she was dying. The pain, the chills, the heat - she had the feeling it would be so heavenly if she could just drink it when she was totally _aware_.

So she found herself there, eyes roaming over his shirtless body, the jeans low on his hips as the muscles in his arms flexed with every stroke of his brush.

The canvas revealed a red world, crimson clouds and fire and _death_, but in the middle of it all, there was something else.

Someone else, to be more particular.

A blond haired, radiating beauty, smiling while the world around her fell apart.

And as Caroline came closer, she recognized the woman.

It was _her_.

'I can't help but notice that knocking is not particularly a thing in this town, is it?' the hybrid noted without shifting his gaze from the red world.

She didn't answer. All she could think of was his divine tasting blood and that she wanted it.

Oh she wanted it so badly.

'Why are you here, Caroline?'

Finally, he looked at her, brows raised questioningly, brush hovering not even an inch from the canvas.

'I...'

What was she going to say? That she'd like to bloodshare with the evil hybrid? That she just came to him to drink his blood?

She lifted her hand as she stood before him, veins under her eyes slightly showing, fangs not yet extracting as she slowly caressed her fingers at where his pulse had to be.

'Hmm..' he hummed aknowledging. 'You want some, don't you?'

She sighed, unable to talk as she brought her lips to the exact place.

'Have at it, sweetheart,' he murmured as he caressed her hair once again.


	3. C - Caroline

**C -**** Caroline**

* * *

_it hurts to remember  
__but it hurts to let go_

* * *

_Caroline_

Whispered by the breeze that made the leaves quiver.

_Caroline_

Mumbled by those who walked by hastily on a rainy day.

_Caroline_

Sung by the birds that welcomed the dawn.

_Caroline_

Cried out by him, who had loved and who had _lost_.

_Do not leave me_, he had begged once.

And she had kissed him, those lips full and soft and how could one capture that? How could one remember all those details of that one kiss with her hair smelling like vanilla and lips tasting like strawberries and a slight hint of lime and _how_, _how _could one revel in all those details without fading with the knowledge that she is _gone_?

He was dying to know, because he was _dying_. He wanted to - he wanted so badly to _remember_ how her skin tasted a bit like coconut and how her tongue would part her lips to wet them when she was nervous and how she could jump him when they had been away from each other for too long but he _couldn't let himeself_, because it _hurt _and it _hurt so much and he couldn't, he just couldn't-_

How did one remember without being hurt?

They didn't.

So he cried her name in his sleep, because he - he who was supposed to be invulnerable, unstoppable and powerful -, he had loved once. Yes, he had loved. He had loved this angel with her blonde curls and her humanity and her purity and he had _lost_ her.

_Caroline_.


	4. D - Daddy

**D - Daddy**

* * *

_save me from myself  
as I do not see the end  
of this all-consuming darkness  
that surrounds me_

* * *

_You used to be so perfect, sweetheart. What happened to you?_

'Daddy, oh daddy,' she mumbled as she reached out to him, her face strained with tears. 'I miss you so much.'

_I miss you too, princess, but we can be together soon, all you have to do is to end this._

'But I can't, daddy, I love him. I can't leave him, I promised.'

_He's nothing but a monster, don't you see? And he's turning you into what he has become._

'You don't know him like I do, daddy,' she protested - but she knew it was impossible to convince him. Because how could you convince someone that you've seen humanity in someone who had only showed it to her? How could you explain - oh, she was dying to know how she could just _explain_ that there was so much more to that man than what meets the eye.

'He's damaged, he's hurt, but he has _humanity_, daddy, I've seen it.'

_You see what he did to you, princess? You have a stake, just come back to me, I won't let him hurt you, I promise._

'He doesn't hurt me - not me, never me. He loves me.'

It _hurt_, oh it hurt so much to have to convince someone of the purity she had seen. He had just as much humanity as she had, he just chose not to show it. So how could you explain to someone that it was there? That it was buried so deep inside him and that he had so much _love_ to give?

She didn't know.

_Have you seen him, sweetheart? He's a monster. Now come back before you become one yourself. _

'I thought you already considered me a monster, daddy,' she suddenly said, the anger she felt due to her powerlessness now shifting from herself to her father. 'That day you tortured me.'

_That was necessary, sweetheart. But now I've encountered worse monsters, I've seen that it will get worse with the years. Please, don't do that to yourself. Come back to me, princess. Just do it. _

A new voice broke through, hands touching her, lips softly pushed on her forehead.

'It's not real, Caroline. He's not real. It's only the curse. Let go of the stake, sweetheart.'

She realized she had been holding the point of the wooden stake against her chest all along, but now his hand enveloped hers, she let go.

_Don't lose yourself in his darkness, princess. One day he'll just leave you. He'll find someone else to put first. You know he will._

'Klaus?' she whimpered, focusing on the blue-eyed man in front of her, trying to ignore the stares she got from her father.

'I'm right here, sweetheart.' His voice was so soft and he felt so real, and oh how had she missed his touch and the way he smelled so intoxicating and the way he held her so _close_.

_Get away from him, Caroline, as he will only hurt you. _

'He- He says you'll leave me.'

Her trembling lips were captured in his and he kissed her. Not the passionate, rough, full-of-desire kisses they mostly shared, but a _kiss_. It was chaste and tender and it didn't last long but _it was there._

And he had said so much as he had said nothing at all.


	5. E - End

**E - End**

* * *

_I have caught myself  
losing my soul  
and now I do not want  
to get me back_

* * *

'Just hold me,' she begged as the sky slowly turned red.

And he was only too happy to comply, pulling the shattered pieces of what once was an angel to his hard chest as he made attempts to soothe her.

He was never one to soothe - he was a man who inflicted misery rather than taking it away. But for _her_ - for his sweet little Caroline, with her cries so _desperate _and her tear-stained face -, for her he would try.

And he _tried_, oh how he tried to when he pulled her fragile body against his every night she woke up screaming, but the tears would never stop and her body wouldn't stop shivering and her _lips, _those small, perfect lips that were so soft to the touch, they _trembled_, and heartbreaking, soul-shattering sounds were drawn from them as he kissed her forehead lightly and it _hurt_ him so bad.

And then once, it all became too much. This kind of torture had been _too much_. So his sweet, little Caroline turned it _off_.

And she was _perfect _- he could not deny that one fact. She was ruthless, merciless and careless and he could do nothing but _admire _the way she looked when she was so _powerful_.

But at the same time, he had to watch silently as her light slowly faded. The glistering in her blue orbs disappeared further and further with every kill, every victim.

'Come back to me,' he found himself pleading once.

And she did nothing but shake her head, that wicked smile that had become her trademark so awfully evident on her face as she buried her fangs in yet another neck. And she drank, she drank until the victim was drained from every last drop.

And oh how he missed her light. He had always wanted her to be like this: fierce, filled with fire.

But now he had seen it - he had tasted the bitterness of Caroline without her humanity and it _hurt_. Her desperate cries as the night fell upon them had hurt less than this; her _pain_ had hurt him less than her lack of emotion.

_Come back to me_, he begged her once again.

And just like before, she would only smile at him as she shook her head.


	6. F - Fallen

**F - Fallen**

* * *

_show me your heart  
as that is all I need to see  
as that is all I need to know  
for me to fall so deeply  
so deeply in love with you_

* * *

Every night, the children would sit around the fire and look up to their mother.

'Can you tell the story about the angel again?' the oldest would plead.

And, as always, mother would give in. Because the story of the angel was something passed on to every new generation and it was her duty not to let it fade like a distant memory.

So, like every other night, she would tell.

Because once, there was an angel, with a name unknown to mankind.

She had been inhumanly beautiful. Her eyes had shone like the sun was inside them and her curls were _golden_, her smile so radiant and her body the color of ivory.

But not only she had been so magnificent from the outside; no, the light of God shone from inside her, the heavenly purity bubbling, her halo lighting up as she smiled.

Oh she was so divine, the angel. And she was loved and adored and she was so _bright_.

And as the night fell upon the cities she would sing, a lullaby in a tongue humans could not pronounce nor understand. But as she sung about how life was up there, watching from the clouds, they would be safe from the hurt and the sickness.

One day, the angel was abandoned by her closest friends as she let her eyes fall on _him_.

He was a beast. He was ruthless, merciless, fearless and dangerous. He had hurt and he had tortured, he had killed - all without the blink of an eye and he was not even a bit sorry.

The story went that he had no heart.

Some believed he was a monster.

But was he really? Because the angel would've swore she had seen differently. She had seen his heart and she had encountered his humanity.

And somehow, despite what he had done, she caught herself wishing that she could forget. She caught herself hoping that maybe she could forget all the horrible things he had done in his past.

She couldn't, could she? She was an angel - she was pure and good and _light_. There was no way she could love a man who had tortured and who had killed so easily.

Much to her surprise - _she could_.

And she did.

Because even though she never forgot, she _forgave_.

And so began the lovestory of an angel who had fallen for a man who could not love.

He could not love anyone but her.


	7. G - Guilt

**G - Guilt**

* * *

_Please do not leave me here  
__do not give up on me  
__just yet_

* * *

Guilt.

It crashed over her in waves, tidal waves that tried to knock her over, to make her fall.

And that was exactly what she did. Face hidden in her hands, knees to the ground. Her legs weren't able to carry her anymore.

Guilt.

_I have killed people_.

More guilt.

_I have hurt people._

Wave after wave after wave.

_They had families._

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

_Monster. Monster. Monster._

'I'm a monster,' she cried out, crawling back to the corner of the room as she looked up to him in despair.

He did nothing but stare at her.

'You didn't stop me!' she screamed. 'You let me do all of that!'

He didn't move, nor did he speak. There was nothing but that intense stare, a mixture of hurt and love and pain and embarrassment and guilt.

And when she saw the guilt she felt it - and how.

'I'm a monster!' she yelled, hiding her face in her hands again as she sobbed. 'I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.'

'_You're not a monster, love__,_' he mumbled, lips close to her ear.

And that was when he pulled her against his chest and just _held_ her, as she was overwhelmed by the emotions running back into her body. The body that had been so careless, so carefree.

'I am,' she murmured. 'I killed all those people. I...'

_'You turned it back on, sweetheart._' He looked at her like she did nothing wrong.

But she did.

The guilt told her that she did and her dad told her that she did and that little voice in her head - that annoying voice that knew everything _oh so well_ and wouldn't shut up told her that she was nothing but _a monster_.

'_There is hope_.'

Was there really?

She didn't know.


	8. H - Hollow

**H - Hollow**

* * *

_do not leave me  
no do not dare  
to ever leave  
my side_

* * *

_Don't leave me_, she begged silently. _You promised me. Don't you dare leave me._

Small, trembling fingers caressing his jaw, tears falling down.

How could he, how dared he? He couldn't die, he wouldn't. She wouldn't allow it and he wouldn't do it because they _belonged together, they had to be-_

_I'm so sorry, sweetheart. _

Skin graying, breath hitching slightly.

His eyes had grown dull and hollow, the shade of ocean replaced by one of death.

_Don't leave me alone – please, please. _

He did not answer.

He had left her with nothing but an empty heart and an aching, shattered soul that constantly reminded her of what was and what could have been.

* * *

**AN: **I'm so sorry I didn't post H on the 31st like I was supposed to, but I had way too much on my mind to do it. I apologize, I apologize.


	9. I - I Will Wait

**I - I Will Wait**

* * *

_and I  
I will always wait for you_

* * *

And she ran.

She ran so hard and she hid so well.

Because she knew, she _knew, _that if she would stay there with his eyes so full of love and desire and his touch lingering on her skin and his _scent, his masculine, musky scent that was so sexy and divine and so Klaus_-

She wouldn't be able to resist much longer.

And so, she ran.

The first note came three days after she'd left. Placed in a motelroom she decided to crash in ten minutes before her arrival - but he did.

Two steps ahead and all.

_I will wait for you, Caroline_.

She placed it on the nightstand, making a mental note to tear it apart after her quick shower.

She "_forgot_".

* * *

The second one made it's entrance barely a week after the first.

She'd been in Rio by then, compelling her way through the airport and trying to stay under the radar.

She didn't quite manage to do that too well, she decided.

This time, the note was accompanied by a drawing of her, resting on the plane.

The thought of him being in the same _plane _as she had been frightened her as much as it angered her.

How could she not have noticed?

How could she not have seen him?

_Time doesn't matter when you've lived as long as I. _

_Take your time, sweetheart. _

_I'll still be here in the end._

This time, she didn't even consider tearing it apart.

* * *

Notes followed and followed as she discovered the world on her own, knowing that he would have gotten so many delightful stories about every city.

Sometimes, she thought she was ready.

Most times, she just plainly wasn't.

Note two-hundred-eighty-three appeared exactly five years and two months after her departure.

_I would like you to stay away from Singapore_, it said. _At least give me the honor of showing that one place to you_.

And so she did.

She never went to Singapore.

Not without him.

* * *

London, she had seen many times.

Paris, too.

Tokyo, Rome - she even stayed in Holland for three months, travelling and just _watching _how everyone had such simple lives and how it was so different and yet so familiar to what _home _used to be.

Dublin, Kiev, Bucharest, she'd even been to Africa a few times.

It had been forty years.

Not even half a lifetime and she was _lonely._

Of course, she managed herself some company. Tess and Bethany and Juliet. Sometimes Mark or Ivan or Louis. People she'd met somewhere and kept contact with.

People who didn't age and who didn't judge her.

People who understood.

But she was always alone, wasn't she?

Somehow, she managed to be lonely, no matter how many people surrounded her.

* * *

Seventy years, six-thousand-three-hundred-and-two notes later.

She was ready.

And so she laid down on her bed and just smiled, the wooden box with the letters and the notes on her chest as she waited.

'You ready, sweetheart?'

She opened her eyes.

And she nodded.


	10. J - Joy

**J - Joy**

* * *

_you bring me nothing but  
the funny feeling in  
my stomach of which  
some say it  
is joy_

'Please.' It was only a whimper. 'No more.'

She was _ravished_.

And even though she thought she could never get enough of the heights he brought her to (she lost track of how many times he'd brought her joy, but that actually says more than an actual number would), she was also _exhausted_.

He smiled and slowly brushed a curl out of her face, kissing her lips ever so softly as he rolled off her.

'Had enough already, love?' he teased, hands roaming over her sweaty, aching body (turns out vampires actually _can_ feel that kind of soreness, much to Caroline's displease).

'Only for today,' she whispered as she crawled closer to his chest.

'Turns out I did ravish you, didn't I?' Gosh, why did he have to sound so _amused_?

'First of all,' she began, lips against his neck. 'Don't act like this was all about _me_, mister. _I,_ for one, know that _you_ liked this as much as I did.' (His finger squeezed her bundle of nerves in a silent agreement, causing her to whimper once again). 'And second, you _did_.'

She knew he smiled.

She knew it because he wasn't the only one smiling.

'And if you ever dare to leave me, I will hunt you down,' she added after a long pause (well, the pause had been filled with kisses and moans and it kind of had _his_ fingers curling inside of her, but that wasn't important), 'because you ruined me and if it isn't _you_, I'm not sure if I can ever enjoy _regular_ sex again.'

He pulled her closer.

They kissed.

'I wouldn't dare, sweetheart.'


	11. K - Kill

**K - Kill**

* * *

_because deep inside  
we are all monsters_

* * *

The drained body of a woman from whom she'd never caught the name fell lifelessly at her feet. Her brown eyes widened, mouth forming an O - death had cut off her screams.

_I killed her._

Her hand covered her mouth as tears pooled in her eyes, spilling over the bottom lids and running down her cheeks.

Somewhere near her mouth, the salty liquid mixed with the remains of blood.

_I killed_ her.

It was wrong. She felt guilty and miserable and dirty and a _monster_.

But at the same time - she hadn't felt any of that when she'd been draining the innocent woman from all her blood. The feeling of killing her in the moment itself had been so euphoric, so divine.

It wasn't supposed to feel like that. It wasn't supposed to feel so _good_.

'Kill me,' she begged, eyes locking in his as he watched her hesitantly. He hadn't stopped her - he hadn't stopped her while he'd known so well that this would've followed.

It always did.

'I will not, sweetheart.'

It was a circle. She killed, _finally _giving in to her nature once again, and then the guilt would become so much she'd _beg_ him to kill her, knowing that she could only restrain herself for so long - knowing that she could only survive on bloodbags for so long.

'Please.' She fell onto the ground, face hiding in hands. 'Please. I cannot live with myself any longer.'

'Do you want me to stop you next time?' he asked, kneeling down next to her as he pulled her to his chest.

She always said yes at that point. She always did.

But within months, she'd suddenly bring it up again. _I don't want you to stop me when it happens again_, she'd say. _I don't want you to stop me_.

And he would not and she would smile and they wouldn't mention it again.

Because deep inside, bubbly Caroline Forbes was a killer after all.


	12. L - Love

**L - Love**

* * *

_give me all you have to give  
as I will love you with such  
power and such intensity  
that you will never be able to  
be loved by anyone else  
but me_

* * *

Love.

It was something Klaus had considered himself incapable of doing a long time ago. He had shut it out, abandoned it as if it had never existed. For him, it actually never had.

And now, _she_ was there. And he could help but _feel_, he couldn't help but want to show her his affections, his _love_.

But wasn't that something he didn't do?

He was _Klaus_. He was The Original Hybrid. He did not _care_, he did not _soothe_ and most importantly, he did not _love_. Not in a thousand years he had and not in a thousand more he would.

Nevertheless, he was certain he would push all of those doubts aside just and only for her. Because she deserved so much more than what the two-star town and the mutt were giving her. She deserved so much more and _he, _for one, knew that he may not be a saint nor was he near the description of a "good man", but he could give her whatever she wanted and whatever she deserved.

As she was his queen and she deserved to be treated as such.

And so he _loved_. And not only he showed it to her and told her, he also _made love_ to her. At nights, when he knew she was homesick and wanted to see her friends and she knew she couldn't - because they plainly _hated_ her for loving a creature like _him _- he would be romantic.

Oh he would do _anything_ for her.

A man who couldn't love and a man who couldn't care lit candles and covered a bed in rose petals just for that one girl, just and only for her.

Because she, his angel with her blonde curls like a halo around her porcelain face and her body so beautiful and goddess-like, she had found that one thing hidden deep inside his darkened soul.

His humanity.

And with that humanity, came his heart.

And with that heart he had so willingly handed to her, that heart in which she now had home, came his undying, unconditional _love_.

* * *

**AN:** some people have asked me to give a heads up when someone dies or anything. I will not. It's rated M for a reason, there can be violence, sex, language and yes, people can die. It happens. So I will not give a heads up for any of that, the rating should be enough of a warning that these things can and possibly _will_ happen.

You either come to terms with that or you don't read it. It really _is _that simple.

Although, I really hope you guys like the drabbles this far! See you tomorrow.


	13. M - Morning

**M - Morning**

* * *

_and for once, I beg you  
to stay with me until dawn  
because maybe, when the sun rises  
you will change your mind  
and stay with me until  
our time is over_

* * *

She had never stayed until the morning before.

She had never had sex with him in his bed before.

His bed was off limits - way too intimate. Her rules, though, not his.

Staying until the morning was also considered _too intimate_. Again - her rules.

He, for one, wanted nothing but to stay with her for eternity. He didn't want her to leave nor did he want to take her so hard and lustful against the wall or on his desk.

He, sometimes, just wanted to show her that he could make love to her, on his kingsize bed.

Not that last night had anything to do with _making love_. She had entered the house, clothes dripping from the rain and eyes dark with anger and fury. And her anger had fueled his and then there had been nothing but lust and desire and lips and skin and _sex_.

But now, she'd awoken with the foreign feeling of an oh so familiar chest pushed against her bare back and two strong arms wrapped around her. And she didn't even mind.

She had never stayed until the morning before. She'd always left before the sun rose, to return to her own bed as if she'd slept there all night. To return to her life in which she needed to hate him, in which she needed to act like she was disgusted by him and all he had done.

Little did the gang know that she wasn't. Little did Elena and the Salvatores and Bonnie know that _he, _The Original Hybrid they all hated so much, was the one to bring her pleasure every night for the last weeks.

And there, in that bed with his arms around her and his lips against the skin of her neck and his fingertips tracing designs on her bare thigh she decided that it was enough.

She had never stayed until the morning before.

But she decided that from now on, she would.


	14. N - Nik

**N - Nik**

* * *

_please, say my name  
again and again and  
over and over  
as I unconditionally love  
the way it sounds  
drawn from your lips_

* * *

'Nik,' she whimpered as he moved inside her slowly, making her feel every inch of him, filling her up so perfectly as if they were melting into eachother.

'Again,' he murmured, withdrawing completely before filling her up once again.

'Nik...'

He kissed her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, and with every kiss it sounded; again and again. Nik. Nik. Nik.

And oh, how he loved the way it was drawn from her crimson lips.

Klaus was the monster, the beast who killed and tortured. Nik, however, was the man, the man who could love and who could laugh.

And she'd brought the Nik deep inside him to the surface so many times, as she had called him by the wrong name and he would almost disappear.

But not now. Not now she finally recognized the difference between Klaus and Nik, the monster and the man.

Now she had decided that he was Nik, _her Nik_, as she'd often referred to him, he would gladly grant all her wishes.

Because she hadn't given in to Klaus - she would never.

She'd giving in to Nik, and she had fallen in love with him.

Little did she know that with loving the man, slowly came loving the monster.

But for now, loving Nik was enough.

For now, hearing how his name sounded through her soft, pleading tone, was enough to make him make love to her endlessly, for the rest of all eternity.


	15. O - Old

**First of all I want to apologize for not updating earlier. I also want to state that there's no guarantee that there will be updates on either Friday or Saturday. Those are really busy days for me and I mostly cannot find the time to write a drabble. I'm sorry.**

* * *

**O - Old**

* * *

_isn't love supposed to be  
only and just between the two  
of us?_

* * *

__'It's quite weird, isn't it?' she blurted out suddenly, breaking the silence they had been engulfed in.

His hand, which was tracing lazy patterns on her bare back, stilled. 'What?'

Her head rested on his chest, and even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was confused. She always tended to say confusing things, but when she explained he would only sigh relieved - glad that it wasn't something worse than the fact that he had _again_ ripped her clothes to shreds.

("How do I need to get home now?" she'd exclaim, sighing. "It's not that I can show up in Rebekah's clothes again, can I? And yours, although I love wearing your shirts I can _never_ let anyone see _that_.")

'That I'm only eighteen and you're, well, _a thousand_.'

He threw his head back, laughing so lightheartedly Caroline couldn't really be mad about him doing it. Instead, the sound went straight to her core.

'What?' she mumbled, running her fingers across his lower abdomen innocently. She felt him shudder beneath her touch and smiled devilishly.

'_That_ is all you think about?' he said, chuckling. His hand slipped between her thighs to avenge her teasing. '_Age difference? _Really?' He tickled the inside of her thighs slightly. 'Not about the way I totally _ravished_ you tonight?', he ran his finger through her slit briefly, causing her to let out a whimper and jerk her hips forward, 'or the fact that you had sex with the biggest bad, whom you are supposed to _hate_?'

'Those other two didn't slip my mind, no, but that doesn't change a thing about the fact that', she had turned around a little, ignoring the bliss coming from between her legs, to look him in the eyes as she poked his chest, '_you_', poke, '_are_', poke, '_old_.'

In a flash, he had rolled them over, hovering over her, supporting himself on the hands that now caged her head.

His hips grinding against hers, the smell of arousal thick in the air, he nuzzled her neck.

'Hmm, well, sweetheart,' he growled, nipping her skin. 'If I recall correctly, that didn't bother you _at all_ last night.'

She let out a desperate, _delicious_ cry and bucked her hips forward, eager to create some friction between their naked forms.

'So maybe I _am_ old, Caroline. Why exactly does my experience' (oh, he _showed_ that experience with the way he teasingly ran the head of his manhood through her wet slit, sometimes scarcely entering her, sometimes flicking her nub ruthlessly) 'bother you?'

'I never said it bothered me,' she protested, panting heavily. 'But my mother was really clear about age difference, seven is quite the maximum for her.'

He did nothing but laugh.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, hands guiding him in as he spoke.

'I don't think those _stupid _human rules remain when you become immortal, sweetheart. And also, I _want_ you, Caroline. Don't fight it, let me _have_ you.'

He started thrusting, to tortuously slow and so loving at the same time, she couldn't even comprehend.

'Isn't that kind of _need_ above any age difference?'

'I never said it was a reason to stop this,' she replied, meeting his thrusts with her own as she fisted her hands in his hair. 'I just mentioned that you are old and that it's _weird_.'

'Isn't everything supernatural weird in some way?' he asked.

His thrusts became faster, deeper, harder - teeth nipping skin, tasting the deliciousness of what was Caroline Forbes.

'I'm not,' she protested, bringing her hand down to where their bodies joined.

She was beaten by his, as he had known what she was about to do and he himself wanted to be the one to please her.

How could he not?

She deserved the treatment of a Queen, and somehow she had felt the urge to pleasure _herself_ instead of making him pleasure her. Was this what the mutt had done? Just ravaging her and leaving her up to her own pleasure?

He, for one, had made a mental list. As this wasn't the first passionate encounter they had shared, for he knew exactly where to bite, kiss, stroke or squeeze to get the particular moan, whimper, scream or cry he wanted.

Caroline's body was something he had explored, as he wanted to know exactly how to _please_ her.

For he was the only one that could shatter her like she wanted, and again, he also was the only one to put the panting, pleased pieces back together.

He forgot all about what she had said as her sounds implied she was close. _Very_ close, indeed.

As she let out his name in a pleading whimper, she started to shudder around him, arms locked around his neck, face hidden against his chest.

She was screaming his name by now.

Only _he _could bring her to such heights, but it was up to her to come down from them again. And even though he rode her through it, pulling her flush against his body, thrusting frantically, it was a rather _long _way down.

He spilled inside her, the intensity of her release bringing forth his, kissing every spot of her he could reach between the grunts of her name.

Panting, moaning, gasping. The sounds filled the air as they both tried to get it together again.

Her head rested on his chest again, eyes closed.

'The fact that your experience makes you so incredibly good at this doesn't change that it's _weird_,' she said once again, almost drifting of to sleep.

His chest vibrated as he chuckled.

'You're old, Klaus, you will always have a bit less than a millennium more than I have. That's... _weird_. No matter how good you are in bed.'


	16. P - Possess

**P - Possess**

* * *

_I will write my name all  
over your shivering body as  
I claim you and  
make you mine_

* * *

She came. Hard, heavenly, painfully.

It wasn't the first time that night, and Klaus would make sure that it definitely wasn't the last.

Fingers never stopped moving, teeth never stopped nibbling. She rode it out, building up for another one before this one even ended.

'Again, Caroline,' he growled, curling his finger to hit her sweet spot repeatedly at inhuman speed.

She complied to his demands with a scream.

He had always been the dominant one - no matter how much Caroline craved control, in the bedroom, he would _never_ give in.

But at nights like these they both knew he wasn't Klaus anymore.

His eyes would turn black before glistering golden and his werewolf would come out to play.

Or to claim.

To _possess_.

'Again,' he demanded.

And again, she did as he asked, a whimpering mess screaming his name.

The pleasure became too much to bear. A night with Klaus's werewolf side made her see that there could be something like _too much pleasure_. The bliss, the euphoria was gone - there were only tidal waves crashing over her, leaving her breathless and aching.

Sometimes, she'd faint, body stilling, whimpers stopping.

Most times, he wouldn't even notice.

His mind was set on one thing, and one thing only. Making her his and ruining her for any other being.

He was the Alpha Male after all.

* * *

**AN: **The alternative for P (P - Poem) will be posted on my drabble story "Love is a weakness". Make sure to check it out!


	17. R - Red

**For those who also read my drabbles on Love is a weakness - I apologize. **

**You've already seen this one. **

* * *

**R - Red**

* * *

_and as we hear the angels cry  
singing their song in utter softness  
we wait and have to watch ourselves try  
not to get burned when the sky turns red_

* * *

The world had turned red.

Everything she saw, tasted, smelled, touched and breathed was red.

Divine red blood on her hands, in her mouth, dripping down her face. The taste heavenly, the sight sickening.

She didn't want to be this, but she was. He had made her, he had molded her.

_I am a monster_, she voiced her thoughts. _Nothing but a monster._

The lifeless body at her feet seemed to agree, and so did the trail of deaths she had left everywhere she went.

'_You are not_.'

His voice was far away, a distant ringing in her head that she couldn't focus on but she couldn't ignore either.

I am, she replied as she looked at her hands like they weren't hers._ I am_.

His protests didn't even reach her this time, as she found yet another victim, this poor girl with her fire-like hair and her eyes so big and beautiful and _frightened_ and oh how she loved it. Oh how she loved the fact that she was so _afraid _of her - sweet little Caroline, shallow, stupid, a _kiddie pool_.

And yet here she was, with some girl staring at her like she was Satan. And she would never admit it out loud, but she _loved _it.

* * *

Far in the back of her mind a voice screamed at her. _This is a mother, Caroline. A mother. She has kids and a life and a loving husband and maybe a nice group of friends who support her and not talk about her whenever she turns away and you shouldn't, you shouldn't-_

Dead.

The woman was dead and Caroline had her blood on her hands and she didn't even care. She didn't even slightly care.

There were no bugging thoughts about her mother like she once had. There was no guilt, no pity, no worries.

There was only red.

Only red and _him_.

* * *

Oh how he loved watching her.

He loved watching her be good and bubbly but even more did he enjoy this side of her.

The allure of darkness was not to be underestimated, he once said, even the purest hearts were drawn to it - and his sweet Caroline was the perfect example of that.

The smell of blood mixed with her frantic eyes was intoxicating, the bodies she left so carelessly on the ground to be found by the first person to pass, it aroused him.

As he followed her every movement, her every breath, his eyes roaming over her body as he waited so patiently for her to be satisfied, he could do nothing but _want_ her.

* * *

_Such a big heart you once had, princess._

_Such a loving girl you were._

_But all that is gone now, isn't it sweetheart?_

_You are a monster now._

_Nothing but a monster._

A monster she was, daddy. A monster she was.

She could do nothing but agree with the words his voice had spoken in the back of her head.

But was she sorry?

No.

She was only red.

* * *

Her blood, his blood, someone else's blood...

Neither of them could really tell.

Neither did they care.

Covered in blood, lost in crimson sheets, only feeling skin and warmth and wetness.*

Vampire speed came in handy when you weren't easy to please.

Hybrid speed came in even handier.

The lovemaking was reserved for sweet little Caroline.

This Caroline could only get sex. Rough, consuming, painful but oh so pleasing sex.

She had no patience for slow. She only wanted him to _fuck _her.

Nails scraping, fangs biting, walls clenching.

Screams filling the air thick with lust.

Red sex was the best sex, she had discovered.

Klaus did not go gentle;

She dare repeat: Klaus did _not_ go gentle.

There was no loving, no caring in their shared kisses.

Only fire and lust and passion and desire - oh _desire_.

He was inside, withdrew, inside. Sweet spots and bloodshare and blood_shed_.

It was hard and rough and it was _heaven_.

Her vision blurred, she came hard and heavenly, grunts and whimpers and moans as they laid encircled by their drained victims, eyes open, mouths formed into a silent scream.

* * *

_You're just a bit lost, love_, he said. _Just a bit unsure._

Maybe I'm just a monster.

_You are not a monster, Caroline._

But what if I am?

_You aren't._

But what if?

The conversation would go on for hours. Darkened heart against darkened soul.

The fact that she didn't care didn't mean that she didn't _know_.

And the fact that she _knew_ surely didn't mean it was a bad thing.

Yes, she was nothing but a monster.

Yes, she killed and hurt and she destroyed.

But she was okay with it.

She was okay with it as long as the world stayed red.

* * *

*** "lost in crimson sheets, only feeling skin and warmth and wetness" is originated from the line "we're lost in these covers, and all I feel is skin" from Trey Songz song "Simply Amazing".**


	18. S - Say It Again

**The alternative for S (S - Struggle) will be posted on my other drabble story thingy (how do you even call that?), Love Is A Weakness.**

* * *

**S - Say It Again**

* * *

_say it over and over and over  
as I will never get enough  
_

* * *

'Hmm...' A content hum escaped from his lips as he nuzzled her neck. 'Say it again...'

She sighed, he had demanded her to say it again and again, probably just for his ego boost. Abandoned and unloved child and all.

Not that she disliked telling him what she felt, though. Nevertheless, it did become a bit monotone.

'I love you.'

He hummed satisfied. 'Again...' he pleaded in a sigh.

'I love you.'

His lips traced down her collarbone. 'Again...'

'I love you.'

He sucked harshly on where once her pulse had been. 'Again,' he breathed.

'I love you.'

He crawled onto her, lips colliding. Sweet, tender, _gentle_.

This time, he didn't have to ask.

'I love you,' she murmured as he pulled back, cupping her face. 'God, I love you.'

He smiled, finally satisfied with the amount of times she'd said it. Finally content with the love she gave him, finally _believing_ what she was telling him.

He rested his forehead against hers, and then in utter softness he breathed out: 'As I love you, sweetheart.'


	19. T - Truth or Drink

**Truth or Drink**

* * *

_spill them all  
because your secrets  
will become my truth_

* * *

Why did she even agree to this?

Yes, she was drunk. It had taken her a while to get there, but she was nonetheless.

And now she found herself sitting in a comfy, wine-red chair, facing the (obviously amused) Original Hybrid.

The same Original Hybrid who just proceeded in making her agree to play Truth or Dare.

However, they (or he, actually, and her fogged mind had foolishly agreed) that it would be _so much more fun_ if they just turned 'Dare' into the more satisfying 'Drink'. As in 'Drink each other's blood'.

Not straight from the vein though. She wasn't _that_ stupid.

'I start,' she simply noted. 'So, Truth or _Drink_, oh powerful Hybrid.'

He smirked (and she would _never_ admit it out loud but he was so incredibly _hot_ when he did that).

'Truth.'

_That _surprised her.

She thought he would be a tease - as in, choose drink for about eighteen times before even thinking of possibly considering truth.

Apparently, he decided not to.

So she went with the first thing that came into her mind.

'Favorite color?'

He laughed - like a _real_, genuine laugh. And it was so _precious_.

'Black, I suppose,' he answered truthfully. 'Maybe red, too. Or dark blue.'

She chose truth too.

He found out her favorite movie was a draw between The Notebook and Gone With The Wind. And that Titanic was a close second.

She found out he actually owned other shirts than those button up ones he always wore.

Truth - She did like the shirts.

The glasses of blood remained untouched.

His necklaces all had a story of their own.

She is afraid of thunderstorms. (He promised her not to tell anyone)

He doesn't like being alone.

She doesn't think he's a monster.

He really does fancy her.

She would give her life for Bonnie's.

Then, the tone of the questions changed. It was her turn, and she would use it.

'Why are you doing all of this to me?'

He cocked his head to the left a little. 'Care to clarify?'

She left the rule of "not answering questions with other questions" as it was, because he actually seemed content on filling in the blank spaces that tortured her mind for quite a while and she didn't want to ruin the moment.

'This,' she said as she made a gesture, pointing her finger to him, and then to her. 'Why are you being so nice? I mean, drawings, bracelets, games, saying you _fancy_ me...'

His eyes lit up as if he was saying "_simple one_". 'Because I do, Caroline.' There was no hesitation. 'I do fancy you.'

She said nothing.

'Truth or Drink?'

Her silence endured as she took a sip of the goblet in front of her, filled with his blood.

It was _heavenly_.

Her face stayed stoic.

'Truth or...'

He took a sip before she ended.

'Truth or Drink?'

She sighed.

'Truth.'

'Tell me, sweetheart. Why don't you hate me like everyone else?'

_Fuck_.

'Because I can't.'

'Why?'

'Nah-uh,' was her reply, smirking devilishly. 'No more questions. Truth or Drink, mister.'

He drank.

She drank.

It went on for a while.

'Truth,' she eventually said.

'Why?'

'It's not that I don't _want_ to,' she said hesitantly. 'It's just that I can't anymore. It was easy to hate heartless you. This _new_ Klaus I've been seeing - I can't hate that. It's humanity, it's _feelings_. How can I hate the thing I value most in people?'

He smiled.

'Truth.'

'Why me?'

'Because you are _you_. I've lived a thousand years, I can't say I've never met anyone like you, I'm sorry', (he really seemed to _be_ sorry, she noticed), 'But I can tell you that you're a woman I would want to wake up next to. I can show you so much, Caroline. You're not afraid of me, you're loyal, you value friendships more than you value life... I could go on for centuries if you'd let me.

In a nutshell, _you_ are intriguing, full of light. You are _you_ and that's what I like about you. You will not change, not even if your life depends on that. You make me feel _human_, or, at least, you make me want to feel like that.'

She downed the glass.

'More,' she pleaded. It was so... so _perfect_. And she was going to need it if they were going to be _this_ honest.

He smirked, index finger tapping on the vein in his neck. 'Come and get it, sweetheart.'

She did not hesitate.


	20. U - Under The Covers

**I just found out that I forgot Q. Turns out I don't know the alphabet like I thought I did. But since none of you pointed that out, I guess you didn't really notice. I might do Q at the end, or I just leave it out as a whole. **

**We'll see. But here, enjoy some sickening fluff. **

* * *

**Under The Covers**

* * *

_and if you're not afraid of the thunder  
i won't be mad if you act so  
just for the sake of me  
holding you close under covers_

* * *

No one, _no one _in the whole world, had ever known that bubbly, radiant Caroline Forbes, was afraid of thunderstorms.

Yes, her parents had, and her grandmother - they had held her many times at night when she was a child. But she stopped crawling into her mother's bed after she got about eleven years old, and no one had ever known that she - _a godforsaken seventy-four year old vampire_ - was _still_ frightened.

Well, except for him. She had told him once, in some stupid Truth or Drink game they had invented when she was drunk and she still pretended she hated him.

(She had stopped doing that eventually though. After Tyler bit her again - this time _without_ anyone else to blame - she'd finally given into him. She stopped pretending she hated him, stopped denying she had feelings for him and finally chose for her own happiness for once_._)

And now, the room lit up, thunder louder than ever, whimpers muffled through her pillow.

Ever since her immortality, he had been there whenever there was a thunderstorm.

She had never verbally _admitted_ that she was afraid, but even though he never brought it up, he always held her tighter during those nights. And he never said anything, but she knew he noticed the way her body would freeze with every thunder, she knew he noticed how she would curl up against his chest and kiss him as if she wanted to shut out everything else.

But not tonight. He was gone - business to attend to.

And she was all alone in a bed too big for one person and she missed his warmth. She missed those arms around her and she missed his masculine scent - the scent of rain on a summer day, autumn, and a slight hint of lemon; the scent of _him_.

She always missed him when he was gone, but it was worse now she was _afraid_.

It wasn't that she had the unrealistic fear of being killed or hurt by the storm or anything - she wasn't _stupid_. The lightning and the thunder and the whole stormy thing just made her slightly uncomfortable.

(It just scared the shit out of her, to be completely honest)

Aside from the fear, she was also _angry_.

Angry because she had discovered the salty tears on her cheeks, and she couldn't believe that she, Caroline freaking Forbes, vampire, _immortal_, was crying over a goddamn _thunderstorm_.

At that moment, when she furiously wiped away her tears, hidden under the wine-red sheets, the door opened. It took a few seconds, but before she knew it, a familiar scent invaded her senses and two strong arms enveloped her under the covers.

She let out a content sigh - _she was safe_.

'Is your business handled?' she muttered against his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't notice the tears wetting his bare skin.

(_Why are you being such a baby, Caroline_? she asked herself angrily. _It's just a thunderstorm, goddammit._)

He hummed an affirmative, lips nipping at her neck to distract her. 'Yes, sweetheart. Sorry it took so long.'

'Don't apologize. I'm being way too much of a child about all of this,' she chuckled. 'You shouldn't rush home because someone who is almost a freaking century can't handle a storm.'

He kissed her lips once, smiling against her mouth at her words. 'I love to rush home to hold you, irrational fear or not, love.'

'I-'

Her response was interrupted by a thunder, louder than the previous ones, and she couldn't hold back the whimper the sound drew from her lips.

He instinctively pulled her tighter against his chest and pushed his lips to her forehead. 'You're safe, sweetheart. I'm here, you're safe.'

Oh and safe she was.


	21. V - Voicemail

**If anyone has PM'ed me and I haven't replied yet - I'm sorry. I haven't checked my PMs in days because I know there are way too many I have to answer and I just don't have time. It might take a while to reply. **

**And, I am working on a multi chaptered fic. As far as I know now, it will be around 15 chapters and it will contain dark-ish Klaus and a _lot _of AU-ness, but I'm not quite sure if I will publish before I finished it, because I have this amazingly unfortunate ability which _never_ lets me finish any of my fics. So I might take a while before a chapter is up. **

* * *

**V - Voicemail**

* * *

_your voice through the phone  
sounds so familiar yet so foreign  
and I wish, oh how I wish  
that I could hear it in person once again_

* * *

_Caroline..._

Why did his voice sound so _innocent_? He was the bad guy. He was wrong, he was _wrong_.

_I'm standing near one of my favorite places in the world..._

Concentrate, Caroline. Don't let him get to you. He's not good for you, everyone will hate you.

_Surrounded by food, music, art and culture..._

She felt her defense crumble with every syllable, with every tone, every sweet, melodic word that had left his lips.

_And all I can think about is how much I want to show it to you..._

He had called her. He had left and then he called because it was _her_ who dominated his mind. Because he couldn't get _her _out of his head as much as she couldn't get _him _out of hers.

_Maybe one day, you'll let me_.

She let down the phone with a sigh, lifting her gaze to the cloudless sky as she tried to gather her thoughts.

Maybe one day, she would.


	22. W - Wolf

**W - Wolf**

* * *

_at night the wolf cries  
helplessly to the moon  
and she can hear the loneliness  
seeping through_

* * *

_Wolves can't hurt their mates. _

Her eyes were widened, her body tense. Backed up against the bark of a tree, gaze locked in the golden one in front of her.

_Wolves can't hurt their mates, Caroline. He won't hurt you. _

Or so she hoped.

He came closer.

'Please don't kill me,' she begged, frozen. The wood dug in her back.

_Wolves can't hurt their mates_.

Tears formed in her eyes as he walked.

Closer.

_I don't want to die._

Closer.

_Wolves can't hurt their mates. _

Closer.

_He said he'd show me the world_.

Closer.

_Rome, Paris, Tokyo. I've never been there. _

Closer.

_Please_.

He sat down in front of her.

And he _smirked_.

The fucking wolf _smirked _at her.

A wicked, wolf-ish smirk.

'I hate you,' she muttered.

The smirk never left his face.

* * *

**I'm so, so, so sorry I haven't updated sooner! I was really sick and haven't been able to come up with anything! I'm so sorry. I will fit in Q later on, and I have already decided that it will most likely be "Queen". **


	23. X - Xi

**X - Xi**

* * *

_sometimes I think we don't need to understand love  
in order to feel it  
but then I see these fools and I find myself thinking  
perhaps, oh perhaps, my love, we do_

* * *

It was late.

The darkness engulfed the mansion they were staying in, and in the light of a candle on a wooden table, a board of scrabble was accompanied by a green dictionary.

Not very long before that, they had been actually playing the game. It had been fun, she was trying to come up with words that only consisted of the letters N and A, because that was pretty much all she got, and he tried to distract her with words like sex, tongue, pleasure and cock.

'That's not a word,' she had said, pointing accusingly at the X he had laid on the board.

A frown appeared. 'I'm a thousand years old, Caroline,' he chuckled. 'Leave it up to me to know if a word exists or not.'

'I call your bluff,' she said smiling.

Suddenly, a devilish smirk spread on his face. 'Want to bet, sweetheart?' he asked when she stood up to fetch a dictionary.

She'd nodded eagerly. 'Loser has to make breakfast?' she offered.

He shook his head, winking at her. 'Come on, sweetheart, come up with something more _daring_.'

'What do you want when you win?' She had cocked her head a bit to the side.

'I want seventy-two hours to do to you what I want.'

Her eyes widened and she gulped. Seventy-two hours, three days of complete surrender. Could she give up control like that?

'I'll treat you well, sweetheart. No need to worry,' he said cockily, and then, a little unsure: 'You know you can trust me, right?'

She nodded without hesitation. 'I trust you,' she mumbled, truthfully. 'I just...'

'Not so sure if you're right anymore, sweetheart? What do _you_ want when you win?'

Now, she smirked. 'I want to go out and seduce all the men I want, while you can do nothing but _watch me_.'

With that, she ran upstairs to get the dictionary out of his study.

He was sure it was a word. Two letters, starting with X.

Xi, fourteenth letter of the Greek alphabet. Definitely a word.

But her prize - and the underlying message (_I like you when you're jealous_) - really got to him. Because that meant that she loved him possessive. That she liked it when he claimed her.

She came back with a green dictionary, the grey shirt - _his _grey shirt, to be more exact - she was wearing revealing a tiny bit of red, lacy underwear as she sat down.

She immediately went to X and he watched her, obviously amused.

'Stop staring at me like that, Nik,' she mumbled, never looking up from the pages she was scanning.

'Not a chance, love,' he responded. 'I want to see that look on your face when you- ah, there it is.' He chuckled in amusement as her face scrunched up.

'Xi,' she muttered, fiddling with her hands in her lap. 'Noun. The fourteenth letter of the Greek alphabet.'

He stood up, eager to claim his prize.

'Seventy-two hours are starting, sweetheart,' he said calmly as he walked towards her, placing the book next to the board on the table.

'Aren't we going to finish the game?' she meekly replied, a bit afraid of what would be waiting for her these next days.

'Not a chance, love,' he said for the second time in about five minutes.

With that, he took her upstairs, ready to make her fall apart beneath his touch, only to glue her back together with every kiss, every whisper of sweet nothings.


	24. Y - Yours Truly

**Y - Yours Truly**

* * *

_I have written you a hundred letters  
if only you were still able  
to receive them_

* * *

Niklaus Mikaelson had never in his life known that there was this kind of anger. The numbing, crippling kind—the one where you couldn't move while there was a storm raging within, caught in your own body but unable to act upon it.

Maybe that was the trick—you couldn't act upon it. Because this anger, this kind of _rage_ was the worst. He would've destroyed the world if he could, in that very moment. He would burn all the cities and drain every human in his sight from their blood, just to revel in every thought that wasn't about her.

Because he had gotten the letter, hadn't he? And now he was here, not even able to read further as the first line had already brought up the way he felt right now.

_Klaus, _

_If you read this, it means I didn't make it. _

And that was it. How could he possibly read her goodbye letter? And _why_, for God's sake, did she actually leave him one? He meant nothing to her—_nothing_. He had waited for years, then decades, then centuries for her to turn up and she didn't come and yet—

—yet he still loved her.

He did. And that was the reason why he forced his eyes to keep on scanning the words. That was the reason that he kept reading. Because he wanted to know—even if it was just read between the lines—if she loved him too.

_Klaus, _

_If you read this, it means I didn't make it. It doesn't mean that you failed, or Stefan, or anyone besides me. I failed, Klaus, and I did not only fail myself but also you. And I'm sorry. _

_The past centuries, I have been alone. Tyler is dead—he has been for a long time. I thought you would know, but the lack of your presence over the years proved differently. And you can't imagine how many times I wanted to turn up at your door. _

_Because I found out a few things about myself, Klaus. _

_Whereof the most important one is that you know me better than I do. Because everything you said was true._

_Small town life—it wasn't enough. _

_Small town boy—he wasn't enough. _

_We are the same, Klaus. And I tried to fight it. I tried so hard but eventually, I couldn't. _

_And now I'm here and I'm dying and all I can think about is how much I regret that I spent all this time rejecting you, being in such a state of denial that I couldn't see how much you could offer me—how much you loved me. _

_And here comes nothing—something I've been dying to tell you but never had the guts too. _

_I love you. _

_God, I do, so much. And I can't even comprehend, I can't even possibly describe how much. _

_But it's all too late now, isn't it? _

_And that's why I leave you with this—with my letter and my journey. It's in the box Stefan gave you, together with some stuff I picked up over the years. Souvenirs of places I've been. Or just random things that made me think of you. _

_I've never been to Paris, Rome or Tokyo—knowing that you would one day take me there, and now I know you won't. But that's one thing I don't regret. I could've never went there without fading with the knowledge that you weren't there to show it to me. _

_With this letter, I give you permission to read the diary in the box, although, the entries aren't addressed to Dear Diary. You might want to know that. _

_And here comes it again, Klaus. _

_I love you. _

_I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that I wanted you and that I rejected you. I will be on the other side now, and while I'm at it there—you might not be able to see me, but I will be able to see you. And I will never leave your sight. _

_Can you go to Paris for me, Klaus? Can you go to Rome and Tokyo and do all the things you wanted to do with me when you're there? You can write letters, if you want. Leave them on tables so you can talk to me, if you don't want to speak out loud. _

_We'll figure something out. I'm sure. _

_I love you—never forget that. _

_Yours truly, _

_Caroline._

Hands trembling, something—please don't be tears, he begged, please don't be tears—blurring his vision. Tears it were, indeed. He took the box onto his lap, carefully placing the letter on the table in front of him as he took the black book out of it.

The entries weren't addressed to her diary, just like she had told him. They were addressed to someone else—they were addressed to him.

It was a journey full of letters to him. Everything Caroline had done without him and he would be able to catch up—and she would tell him. Every letter, every single drop of ink was placed there carefully by her small hand and she had knowingly written everything down that happened so he would know, once.

He took out other things—things that had made her think of him.

A wooden wolf, maybe as big as the palm of his hand.

A necklace with a pendant in the form of a red teardrop.

Two dices for some kind of stripping game, one for male/female, one for which clothing.

He laughed through his tears. Some of them were silly, some perfect, but most of all—they were _Caroline_. And instead of leaving all her belongings to her friends or Stefan, she kept this box apart and put everything in it that she wanted him to see—things she wanted to share with him.

His eyes raked over the sentence once again, and more tears appeared.

_I love you—never forget that._


	25. Z - Zugzwang

**First of all: I'm sorry it took so long. I can write down all the reasons and excuses, but I know you aren't really interested in that, so I'll just say I'm sorry. **

**Second: This is the last Alphabet Drabble, aside from Q (- Queen) which I will post later on. I had a lot of fun writing these and you can't imagine how glad I was to receive the support I have gotten on this. I really appreciate all those people who have stuck with me - girls, you know who you are. Thank you so much. I owe you big time. **

* * *

**Z - Zugzwang**

* * *

_it's like a game of chess and you  
know that whatever you will do—  
will make you lose something_

* * *

.~.

He watched her, the beauty that was Caroline Forbes. He followed her at her shopping rampages through Paris, watched her with prying eyes as she let her eyes linger a bit too long on a male and smiled from afar when she went all neurotic control-freak on someone.

He remembered her, the little, feisty woman. He remembered every dip and curve her body possessed, he remembered exactly where to nibble or kiss or bite to get that particular moan, that particular sound, the mixture between a moan and a whimper and a cry that made him long for her. He remembered the way she smiled at him, the way she would watch his skilled hands as he drew her, again and again and again.

He remembered her—but she never remembered him.

He had promised himself to watch from afar, to look but never touch. He couldn't become close, because he would find them.

But why did he catch himself going to the same party she was attending to? Why did he catch himself getting closer and closer and closer to her with every passing second?

Why did he introduce himself to her?

Why did he ask her for a dance?

On that particular night, Niklaus Mikaelson found himself dancing with the woman of his dreams, the fire, the bright, bubbly Caroline—the only one who had ever loved him and the only one he had ever loved in return.

And they danced, the couple. And he remembered her but she never remembered him. She could only watch the intriguing man and try to figure out why his name sounded so familiar—why his touch felt like he knew her body so well.

* * *

.~.

And at night she tried to remember. Because she had seen that face before and she had felt that touch before. She knew that man, those eyes, those hands.

Niklaus Mikaelson.

The name echoed in her dreams and his face haunted her but she could never reach—she could never _remember_.

And the darkness brought something else, memories of things she had never encountered, memories of things she couldn't have memories of—things she didn't do or saw.

So Caroline Forbes tossed and turned as her sleep fed her things she hadn't seen. Snippets of her life with him, snippets of a life she hadn't lived.

Snippets of a life she didn't remember.

And then it brought her to something else. A basement, a cellar. Something that happened so long ago. Something that made her forget.

She made herself forget.

* * *

.~.

She was held down by chains and he—he was held down by seven vampires. Blood oozed from her, soaking ripped clothes. The crimson liquid mixed with the vervain that was poured on her and left burning lines all over her body.

She could hear faint growls that could only come from one person—Niklaus Mikaelson.

'Nik,' she whimpered, eyes searching for him as she failed in getting up.

She finally caught him in her gaze, held down by several men, blood trickling down his body. She pulled at the chains that bound her and his head shot up.

'Caroline,' he murmured, no concern, only love and relief in his voice. 'Don't be scared, sweetheart, I know what I have to do.' He smiled faintly at her.

She shook her head as sobs escaped her mouth. She knew Klaus and she knew what that meant. He couldn't—he wouldn't, would he? He wouldn't leave her alone, he wouldn't do that, he wouldn't let her lose him. He—

'Hey, hey,' an unfamiliar voice interrupted. 'You can't leave the lady without a choice, can you?' A man stepped out of the shadows, into the light, and smiled a wide, toothy smile.

'We can, actually,' Klaus growled, trying to fight the vampires holding him down. 'Free her, Marcel, I've made my choice.'

She saw her only chance, right then and there. 'What are the options?'

Marcel, the amused, ego-as-big-as-the-moon vampire, gave her one of his wide smiles and began to explain. 'Well, since our beloved friend Klaus here doesn't deserve any kind of love, there are only two options. Either he dies, or you do.' He shrugged like it was nothing.

Caroline wanted to sacrifice herself for him. He knew she would. But he couldn't do anything. Marcel knew that if she died, Klaus would be miserable. And wasn't that exactly what he wanted?

Was there another choice? Was there any other way to get herself out of this? Was there anything—_anything_ that could save them both?

'There is a third choice,' she muttered faintly.

Marcel cocked his head to the side at the same time Klaus breathed out a pained "no, please".

'Well, spill it,' the dark-skinned vampire said.

She waited for a bit, her azure orbs locking with Klaus', mouthing _I'm so sorry_ as tears left her eyes. He shook his head, murmuring "don't do it, Caroline, don't do it, _please_"—but she did it anyway. It was the only way to save them both, it was the only way to let them live.

'He could compel me to forget him,' she told Marcel without shifting her gaze from the original hybrid. 'He could compel me to forget and to leave.'

The King of New Orleans grinned as he slowly rubbed his chin. 'That's even better!' he exclaimed happily, unchaining her. 'The big bad Hybrid has to make the only woman that will ever love him forget.'

She was placed in front of him, gazes locked. The vampires that held him down stepped back, releasing him as he sat upstraight.

He shook his head.

'Do it,' she pleaded. 'It's the only way to save you.'

'I'll get you back,' he murmured. 'You can't get rid of me that easily.'

She smiled faintly, forgetting about all the other vampires in the room as she kissed him. 'I never doubted that,' she whispered. 'I love you.'

'I love you too.'

'Now do it.'

* * *

.~.

That was the night he made her forget.

And this night—this night she would finally remember.

* * *

**Again, thank you all for sticking with me and for reading and reviewing, it meant a lot. **

**On that note - there is a slight chance I will be starting a fic soon, but I'm not quite sure yet, because I have the unfortunate habit not to finish what I start. It will be Klaroline, of course. **


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